


Why Do You Feel So Down When You're One Of Us

by nebuloz



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: ADHD Eliot, Autistic Quentin, Cuddling, Eliot Is Gay As Fuck And Doesn't Acknowledge Feelings Ever, Gen, Margo is also ND but i dont like............ have sepcififcs so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebuloz/pseuds/nebuloz
Summary: Quentin stims. Eliot finds out. Quentin is embarrassed. Eliot cofmorts.





	Why Do You Feel So Down When You're One Of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoopy_dragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoopy_dragons/gifts).



> sup yall this is the first fic i’ve ever actually finished. it’s my birthday gift to spoopy_dragons, and has been the project consuming my life for the past 3 days. Quentin might be a little ooc, i’ve never written these characters before and have just started watching the show please forgive me
> 
> (title is a mash up of the song titles Why Do You Feel So Down by Denclan McKenna and One Of Us by new politics, thnx to my friend on skype for the idea lmao)

Quentin had always been… twitchy.

Well, not twitchy, per se. More like restless, constantly moving or fidgeting. His friends (read: Julia) used to call him ‘Hexbug’ when he was a kid due to his fidgety nature. She said he reminded him of the toy, quiet and still one second but vibrating and bouncing the next.

Point in case. Q stimmed. And as comforting as it was to have a way to release his pent up energy that wasn’t crying or punching something, there’s always an adjustment period with new people

To be perfectly honest, we wasn’t entirely aware of how much he actually did it until now. With Julia it was always pretty easy, they had been friends for as long as he could remember and they both got used to it. On some level he was aware that he was doing it around her, practicing card and coin tricks, finger-combing his hair more than usual, pacing, ect. But it was never a question of why when he was around her, he knew and she knew and it was okay. There was nothing awkward and no explanations.

Even with Alice it wasn’t really a problem, because most of their time together was spent theorizing and Q trying not to let Alice blow herself up on accident, so his mind was stimulated enough for all of him. If he paced odds are she was also pacing, and his hands were occupied with books, so he didn’t really think about it.

But then there was Eliot. Kind, eccentric Eliot. Quentin was beyond grateful for his and Margo’s friendship, he wouldn’t’ve lasted a day at Brakebills without them. However, Q was, unfortunately, a people pleaser, and El and Margo were so nice it was almost scary. Not in the ‘creepy monster luring you to their lair’ kind of way, or in the ‘evil prep who wants to gaslight you’ way. They were just genuinely kind to him and seemed to really enjoy having him around, which terrified Q since he didn’t understand what they saw in him. He was constantly afraid in the back of his mind that he would let them down somehow, or eventually they would see that he’s not really worth hanging out with and he didn’t know what he would do it that happened.

Anyway. Back to the point.

Q and El were lounging in El’s room. They had the day off from classes and most of the Physical kids were outside enjoying the mild spring day before the heat of the New York summer set in. Margo had dragged Alice off to get coffee or something, so it was just the two of them.

Eliot was stretched out on his bed, reading an Oscar Wilde book, and Quentin was curled into the corner of a nearby couch, pretending to read Fillory and twirling a ballpoint pen. Sunlight streamed through the large window behind them and the room was comfortably warm.

He was gazing past Eliot at some point in the distance, when suddenly the pen was launched across the room; whizzing over El’s head and into the wall with a sharp crack, startling them both out of their comfortable haze.

Q immediately flushed with embarrassment and curled further in on himself into the couch. El just sat up more and turned to look, bewildered, at where the pen had landed.

He marked his book and set it aside, picking up the pen and turning back towards Q. Q looked away sheepishly and tried not to overthink the situation.

“Practicing alternatives to battle magic?” Eliot chuckled, eyeing the pen and twiddling it gently. Quentin forced a laugh and tried to uncurl from the tight ball he had wound himself into. All he wanted to do was get up and shake out the nervous energy gathering in his arms, but he settled for brushing his hair back and shoving his hands into his pockets, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Eliot.

“Yeah uh, s-sorry i was uh, just, it k-kinda, um,” Quentin stammered, looking desperately around the room to avoid looking at Eliot. “It uh, got away f-from me. Sorry.”

His shoulders had begun to shake with the effort of sitting still, and he clenched his fists harder in his pockets. Being flustered was one thing, but being flustered in front of Eliot only made it worse, and Q’s brain was going haywire trying to think of ways to fix the situation.

El frowned at Q’s distress and scooted to sit on the foot of the bed. “Whoa whoa, no need to apologize, it was just a joke my man.” he said with an easy smile, making his voice softer in an effort to comfort him. “You look kinda tense, Q, something on your mind?”

Q’s eyes went wide and he met Eliot’s for half a second before shifting uncomfortably and plastering a very obviously fake smile on his face.

“N-no no, I’m fine! It w-was just, um. It’s nothing.” He said, sounding strained. He took his hands out of his pockets and instead clutched them in his lap, rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand and hoping it was out of El’s sightline.

Eliot set the pen aside and got up to sit next to Quentin, placing the abandoned Fillory book on the side table and leaning back into the couch. He was careful to give Q space and rested the arm furthest from him on top of the couch, the other laying across his lap.

“Kay, so, that’s bullshit and we both know it. You’re wound tighter than Alice’s mom’s stockings when you try to imply that her family isn’t perfect. You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m a willing ear if you need to. I’ve already told you my deepest darkest secret so it’s not like I’m going to judge you.” He joked halfheartedly, gazing straight ahead. He glanced briefly at Q, accidentally making eye contact and quickly looking back at his bed, forcing down a blush and waiting for an answer.

Quentin opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for the right words and drawing a blank. The sincerity behind Eliot’s casual words scared him a bit, and while he appreciated his honesty, he was still apprehensive about sharing this part of himself with him.

For a while they just sat there, eyeing each other occasionally and thinking. After a couple minutes Quentin had finally uncurled himself all the way, and he shot one more look at Eliot before sighing and shaking out his arms.

“I uh. I do this thing, whenever I’m restless o-or im thinking, or upset or happy or like. Any big emotion really. Where uh, I have to like. It’s kind of hard to explain.” He stuttered, his words coming out choppy and unsure.

“Imagine like. A big ball of energy in your chest, or. Actually in your arms I guess, that’s where it is for me. Um. A-anyways, uh…”

Eliot waited patiently while Quentin stumbled over his words, and slowly a small smile began to grow on his face. He waited for a break in Q’s rambling before he interjected.

“…a-and it’s kind of annoying, unless I’m not like, with people, but-”

“Oh, you mean stimming?”

Q stopped short and turned to look at him, face slack with shock.

“Uh, yeah, th-that’s exactly it, h-how did you…?”

“Know? Oh Quentin, buddy, I do that too! Why do you think I’m always talking, because I like the sound of my voice? Well, actually, that too, I suppose, but! That’s not the only reason. The point is I know what you’re talking about, you absolute dork.”

Quentin went quiet and shut his mouth, which had still been hanging open. Over the course of his monologue he had began pacing, and had stopped mid-step when Eliot started talking. Absentmindedly, he sat back down on the couch next to Eliot, a little closer than he had been before, and stuck his hands between his knees. He was at a loss for words and furrowed his brow trying to process what Eliot had just said. Was this really something that they had in common? Had Eliot noticed before and just not said anything? Why? How had Quentin not noticed that El did it too? Why had he been so embarrassed in the first place? Why-

“Quentin, buddy, you okay?”

Eliot’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he jumped slightly, cautiously turning to face him. His eyes were soft with concern, like he thought had done something wrong, and Q took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry I was just. Thinking. Um. Do you really, uh, stim too?”

“Oh yeah, constantly! If I’m not talking to you or Margo or whoever will listen, I’m humming or talking to myself. Most people think it’s because I’m self absorbed, but it’s really an ADHD thing. I also bounce my leg, fidget with pens, the works, but the talking is the main thing.”

“Oh, wow, uh. I, uh, guess I didn’t realize, uh, sorry-”

“Please, don’t apologize, it’s not very apparent.”

“Yeah, sor- um. Yeah.” Quentin stuttered and stopped himself apologizing again before continuing, “Did you ever notice, uh, me doing it?”

“Hm? Well, not consciously, I suppose, but on some level yes, I recognized why you seemed so jumpy and fidgety. Why?”

“Oh, i-it’s stupid, but. I was kind of, um, embarrassed to do it around you and Margo, I guess. Before with- with Julia, it was never a problem because we grew up together, but when I became friends with you guys I noticed how much I actually did it and I was afraid you guys would think I’m weird, o-or something.”

“Aw, Q, buddy, that’s perfectly reasonable! There’s nothing wrong with that, I completely understand. The only thing I will mention though, is that you’re kinda oblivious, on account of both me and Margo stim all the time. Yeah,” He added when Q shot him a bewildered look, “I already told you about mine, but Margo’s always swaying or dancing or something, and she chews when she’s thinking. She has a little pendant thing for it, but she keeps it in her pocket most of the time instead of wearing it.”

Quentin frowned again, trying to process this new information. In retrospect it didn’t seem out of place, but he wouldn’t have pegged either of them as the type when he first met them. It was a huge comfort to know that they were like him, in a sense, but there was still underlying anxiety about the whole thing. His hair started falling in his face, but he didn’t push it back like he usually would, too lost in thought to notice.

Eliot watched the gears turn in his head, unable to stop fondness from creeping into his expression. As loathe as he was to admit it because he usually put his feelings in a box and ignored them, Quentin was very cute when he was thinking. After a minute or so he reached out and pushed Q’s hair out of his eyes and behind his ear, then gently took his hands.

“Alright, hey, breathe for a second before your head explodes.” he said softly, a teasing smile growing on his face. “Your shoulders are really tense, try and relax, okay?”

Q stared at him for a moment, not daring to move in case his hair fell back from where El had carefully tucked it. Somewhere in his frazzled brain he noted that Eliot’s hands were slightly rougher than he had thought they would be, and were comfortingly warm. He blinked a couple times to clear his head and looked down, slowly letting the tension out of his shoulders as his brain processed what Eliot had said.

“Sorry, th-that was just, kind of a lot to take in at once, and my brain wen tuh, a little haywire.” He managed sheepishly, still not meeting Eliot’s eyes.

Eliot brought Quentin’s hands up to his face and kissed his knuckles gently. “Ah yes I apologize for that, it was irresponsible of me to burden you with such great knowledge as this all at once.” He quipped, not unkindly, his expression morphing from teasing to comforting.

Quentin smiled at that and looked back up at him, still not making eye contact but no longer afraid to show his face.

“You’re sure you don’t think it’s like, weird, or anything? You won’t, like, shun me if I stim around you?” He asked tentatively.

“No, of course not!” El replied, his voice genuine. “Like I said, I do it too, and so does Margo. I promise neither of us will make you feel weird about it. Speaking of though, if you are going to be more open about this, which I fully support, be prepared for Margo to lose her mind, as she’s about as dense as you are when it comes to this sort of thing, and she’ll be ecstatic. I could detail it out for her, if you want, so you don’t have to explain again?”

“That would… actually be really nice, thank you.” Quentin nodded and smiled wider, relieved to have this weight off his chest

Eliot grinned in response, his eyes crinkling with happiness. “Well, it’s settled then! I say we celebrate, it’s never too early for a celebration.” He chuckled, referring to the fact that it wasn’t even 1pm. “I’ll go get a bottle of wine, and you can tell me all about Fillory, sound good?”

Quentin tilted his head slightly, puzzled. “But, I’ve already told you basically everything I know about Fillory.” He said, unsure of why El had said that.

“Oh yes I know, but I love hearing you talk about it. You’re too quiet sometimes, my dear, the world would be a much better place if it could hear you speak.” El replied, squeezing his hands. Something like courage flashed in his eyes for a moment, and cautiously he leaned forward to place a kiss on Q’s temple before standing up with a flourish, his usual grin returned to his face.

“Now, I’ll go fetch the wine and you get comfortable.” He said, escaping through the door and down the stairs before Q could see his blush.

Quentin sat, bewildered and flushed, in the same position El had left him in. Slowly, he reached up and brushed his temple where Eliot had kissed it, and a giddy smile broke onto his face. He bit his lip and shook out his feelings through his arms, forcing himself to breathe so he wasn’t a mess when Eliot came back.

Luckily they had both recovered by the time El returned with the wine, and they spent the afternoon side by side, shoulders pressed together. El listened to Q ramble on about Fillory with a fond smile of his face, and when Quentin had run out of things to say, El cracked jokes to make him laugh.

Somewhere between the alcohol and the warmth of the afternoon sun and the pleasant dizziness of laughing for too long, they dozed off. When Quentin woke up, the sun had given way to dusky evening light, and a sleepy warmth surrounded the two men. Quentin was nestled against Eliot’s chest, and Eliot had his arms wrapped loosely around Quentin. One of the buttons on El’s vest was digging uncomfortably into Q’s ribs, but he hardly noticed, pressing closer to Eliot’s chest before registering the situation.

His eyes shot open but he didn’t sit up, not wanting to wake Eliot. His brain short circuited for a moment as he considered his options. One, get up and risk waking Eliot. Ahh, no. Two, stay awake and wait until Eliot moved to leave. Mm, to much based on chance. Three, go back to sleep cause he’s actually really comfy and doesn’t mind cuddling with Eliot and risk Margo finding them. You know, all things considered, he would much rather deal with Margo waking them up than trying to deal with Eliot himself.

Sighing, he shifted so that the button wasn’t digging into his side anymore and nuzzled his head into Eliot’s shoulder, quickly falling asleep again.

Margo did indeed find them later, but instead of waking them she simply snapped a pic and sent it to their phones, with just ‘<3’ as a caption, tossing a blanket over them and leaving them to deal with the aftermath in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> gskjdhfgjlk new drinking game: take a shot every time i described something as 'warm' in this fic
> 
> if u enjoyed pls leave comments and kudos, they are very much appreciated!!


End file.
